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2013.09.10 - Pandora's Sodding Box
It made sense at the time, Elsa thinks. Sinking a little of her fathers sizeable fortune into a permanent presence in New York City just seemed the right thing to do. Besides, she'd had enough of hotel rooms. Not to mention the sizeable amount of weirdness that seems to plague Metropolis and Central Park in particular. So this morning finds her dressed for lugging lots of dusty boxes about, in a pair of worn blue jeans and red t-shirt. "Sodding boxes. Bloody dust. And whatever the hell you are!" She has a ragged looking cardbox box of bizarre looking items clasped to her chest, poking at some form of insectoid lifeform with the tip of one her heeled boots. "If I find you chewing on something expensive I will kick your arse." She makes her way to the nearby desk and starts rummaging through its contents. The bell above the shop offers a faint *ding* as the door swings open without much more fanfare. A lone figure enters with a casual gait. Her gaze lingers between objects - here and there she idly mutters under her breath, words that sounds similar to 'mid Mesopotamian', or perhaps - 'Colonial'. Sharp eyes hidden behind a pair of wire rimmed glasses move past items that are of little value, to linger upon those that have more history to them. (Either through age, or renown). A soft breath echoes outwards, as she shifts a small pack on her shoulders, the contents within the pack rattle ever so slightly as she moves them. Her voice calls out then - sounding more official than curious. "Excuse me. Is Miss Bloodstone available?" Elsa pauses in her search as he hears the bell chime, arching an eyebrow. "Blimey, someone's keen." She makes a dive for a nearby grey apron, which in hindsight she probably should have put on sooner. Elsa tries to effect something approaching an air of professionalism as he hurriedly ties the apron off and steps out further into the shop floor, spying her first visitor, quickly appraising her with a glance up and down. She doesn't /look/ like a raging wino at least. Or smell like one. "Good morning madam. Oh god I sound like a nut case." She waves a hand distractedly. "If we're going to get off to anything resembling a decent start in customer slash proprietor relations, I insist you call me Elsa, darling. How can I help you?" The figure pauses a moment, her attention fully caught upon an old vase as her gaze lingers upon its ancient designs, as Elsa enters - blue gems (hidden as they are behind her glasses) lift upwards to offer an appraising once over of the proprietor to the shop. The expression is brief, but there, a slight up and down glance before the more professional attitude shifts into gear and a free hand lifts her glasses more firmly upon her nose, setting them into place. A few steps taken towards Elsa, and a hand extends. "Greetings to you then, Elsa. My name is Dr. Annabelle Riggs, I an archaeologist working with the Smithsonian to gain rare and unique items. I was wondering if you have a moment to talk?" A slight shifting of her shoulders draws the backpack that is there towards her elbows, and then onto a clean counter space, with an ease and fluidity of motion. "Though please, call me Annabelle." As she speaks, and whether or not the hand shake is given, Annabelle does at least wait to see if it's a good time to speak or not. Elsa raises her own hand to respond in kind, before looking down at it and wiping the excess dust smeared across it on the leg of her jeans. She takes Annabelles hand in a firm grip and shakes it, a gentle smile crossing her lips. "Well, glad we got that sorted." The demon hunter looks a little puzzled as Annabelle states her name and profession. "The Smithsonian? Bloody hell. Look...er...not being funny or anything but are you lost? I doubt there's anything in here that will be of the slightest interest to you." Elsas eyes flick towards the backpack as Annabelle places it on the counter. She releases her grip on the archaeologists hand, before taking half a step back and leaning against the desk. "I have all the time in the world, dear. What's on your mind?" "Oh. I'm quite sure I'm in the correct place." Comes Annabelle's response, as her fingers make quick work of the zipper, to reveal a small box within, as the box is lifted the contents rattle ominously within. The box is placed upon the counter, as the backpack is tossed haphazardly to the floor, allowing more room for Annabelle to work. "As you may know." She begins, a free hand that isn't placed on top of the box once again moving upwards to place an index finger upon her glasses, shoving them once more into place upon her nose, then lowering her hand to the counter once more. "There are those that would profit from stealing items from claimed dig sites, using those items for nefarious schemes. Occasionally, there are also items that individuals such as myself, are unable to obtain ourselves. It is either too dangerous, or unreachable." Annabelle's fingernail idly moves towards the clasp on the small box, then, lifting the lid open with a careful click of her fingernails. "And it's my job to not only regain those items, but to seek out still others that the museum might enjoy showing, and making their /own/ profit for." The contents within are small figurines made out of what appears to be marble, or rock. It's obvious from their state, they use to be polished to pristine perfection, though right now time and age has dulled their colourings down. The figurines are feminine in shape, each holding a different weapon, whether it's a bow, or an ax or even a sword and shield. "I obtained these figures at a dig down in Crete." She begins, each figure removed from the box and placed upon the counter, "While I can not be certain, there are those that believe these warrior maidens depict the Amazons that use to live in ancient Greece." A soft sigh, and shake of her head is given as Annabelle continues. "However, I believe they are not Amazons, but instead are from more Norwegian origins. The trouble is, this is only part of the items that we found, another box was stolen before I could open and examine its contents. I had hoped that box might shed light onto these figures true origins." As Annabelle speaks, her nail drums a repeating rhythm upon the inside of the open box, tapping gently a few times over and over again, in both agitation as well as annoyance. The rhythm of the tapping - without Annabelle realizing it, begins to pick up inside the box itself, repeating the sounds with a very faint echo. "Thus the reason I am here, in a round about manner. Are you available for work, Elsa - the museum will pay you a finders fee for finding the second box." Elsa's expression is one of practised patience as Annabelle speaks, cupping her chin in her right hand and resting her index finger across her top lip. She is reminded of some of the lectures her father gave on matters esoteric and arcane, though Annabelles method of delivery is certainly more pleasant. Elsa leans forward a little, scrutinising the figurines as they emerge from the box, her brow furrowing slightly when the archaeologist mentions her theory about the figures origins. She nods assent. "I'm fairly sure the Amazons didn't run about with shields shaped like that, for a start." Elsa takes note of Annabelles insistent tapping on the box, her eyes dropping to the archaeologists hands. "I think you might have got your wires crossed a bit, love. I'm not really the tomb raiding type. I mean...unless you want your little relics accidentally blown into pieces by an errant shotgun blast." Elsa's gaze flicks over Annabelle's head, to an old battered lamp situated on a roof beam over their heads, which has begun to pulse faintly with a white light in time with the tapping on the side of the box. *Well that's not normal.* She looks back to Annabelle. "I don't suppose you could stop that? It's bloody annoying." Her tone is more inquisitive, rather than upset. "No that's exactly what I want." Annabelle states with a firm tone to her voice, and though she acquiesces - her nail lifting upwards to cease the tapping. It still continues even after she's raised her index finger up. The lamp - in whatever capacity it does, flickers even more wildly, while Annabelle speaks. "I've done some research on you Miss Bloodstone. Elsa." Annabelle corrects herself, her gaze narrowing in upon the figure before her. "You have quite a bit of renown when it comes to hunting things down." The petite figure states with a raise of her chin upwards, "And I don't want just any mercenary grabbing up that box." With that last statement, Annabelle reaches into her slack's pockets, pulling out a series of photos that she places in order upon thet able. "Because it wasn't just ordinary thugs or grave robbers that took that box." The pictures show a series of grainy photos taken from a security camera. The monsters are tall, odious creatures that Elsa will pin-point immediately as Trolls - right directly from Norse Mythology. "I do not know what they want with that box, but I think it might be best if .. we.." Annabelle's words begin to falter a moment as one of the figurines on the counter suddenly disappears with a puff of smoke. The rhythmic thumping ceases then, as suddenly a very tall, skeleton figure wearing the armor of a long lost Viking appears next to Annabelle. The figure holds a sword in one hand, shield in another and though the appearance is that of a skeleton warrior, the bone glistens as though made from a strong, marble rock. It lets out a cry from its jaw, loud and vocal - empty socket eyes moving from Elsa to Annabelle. Elsa looks at Annabelle with an expression of incredulity. "Now hang on a sodding minute. You *want* me to blow up priceless artefacts? You've got some bloody odd ideas for an archaeologist, darling." She pauses for a moment to let Annabelle continue. Elsa shoots the lamp a worried look as it continues to pulse, before looking at the photographs that the archaeologist places in front of her. The monster hunter lets out a low whistle. "You have my attention, Miss Riggs. Though I might get told off by the residents down the road if I don't mention this to them in passing, at least." Elsa glances down as one of the figurines disappears. "Oh bollocks. I was afraid of that." As soon as the skeletal figure appears, Elsa dives behind the desk, coming up with a sizeable revolver in her hand. "Annabelle. Duck." Is offered as an aside to the archaeologist, before Elsa jams down the trigger, the booming report echoing around the confines of their surroundings as the magnum round speeds towards the skeletons head. "Not in my sodding shop, bony!" She'd scream. Well. If she could find her voice. She'd yelp. If you know - she could get anything out than a sputtered gasp. As it is, when Elsa first reacts, Annabelle's still standing there, gazing at the monstrosity in complete shock and horror. Not to mention deer in the headlights look of astonishment. As Elsa yells for her to duck. Well. Annabelle's fairly slow in reacting but /does/ manage to at the very least drop down in a crouch first, and then scamper in a duck-walk around the counter, her hands are on her ears for the sound of the gun shots is not only loud, but it helps with the quivering, shivering, and shaking of her entire /body/. Hunkering down at least in some semi-state of safety, Annabelle's left to crouch there not a single word let out, heart pounding in her chest. As she crouches, and some semblance of order returns to her thoughts, her hand lifts upwards, fingers snaking in a feeble search of the counter, as it appears to everything else -it's just a hand idly groping around for something. The box. That's how it started, right? The marble of the skeleton's head begins to erupt outwards in huge chunks as the bullets make their mark known. The initial attack causing some surprise from the monster, though it's swift to raise up its shield, protecting what is left of its head with the metal device as it begins to back out towards the door. And that light? Yeah it's still flickering. Not too far away from Bloodstone Curios... ...although, it must be said, in an entirely different kind of place... ...and at about the time that lamp started flashing... ...the Valkyrie Brunnhilde looks up from cleaning and repairing her plate armour, most of which is now commendably gleaming once more - and seemingly stares straight at the nearest wall, her eyes focused on something a long way past the blank surface, and most likely outside Thor's Hall completely. She senses something, though it's beyond her powers to know what it is, only that it's... wrong. And that death threatens someone she knows. Blinking, she shakes her head to clear it, the after-image of her death-sight strong, considering the individual it marked is not physically present. But she's already putting aside her armour and rising to her feet. She crosses to the door to her borrowed chamber with fast strides and throws open the door, pausing on the threshold to look toward Sif's chambers in an automatic reaction - and catching sight of the Goddess of War herself. For an instant the Valkyrie hesitates, before shaking her head in disappointment and taking off once more, her strides becoming a half-run as she heads toward the main door - only to nearly collide with a figure coming the other way. A tall figure. A figure much like herself - and one currently more suited for battle than the former comrade in arms she just left behind. "Brynn!" She calls, barely slowing. "Take up your sword! Something fell touches Midgard!" Despite her portentous words, is that a slight smile of anticipation on her lips? Whether it is or not, Brunnhilde sets off at a dead run toward the source of her disquiet, trusting pedestrians - and occasionally cars - to get out of her way or be run down. She's not acclimatised to modern Midgard QUITE yet, obviously. Even so, as the skeletal warrior backs toward the door, it suddenly crashes open, bouncing off the wall and probably leaving a bit of a dent. The Valkyrie stands in the opening, Dragonfang raised - and looks suprised to see Elsa. "Elsa Bloodstone! What in the Nine Realms is going on in here?" It's one thing to go to visit your best friend when she is pregnant and needing your company (at least Brynn likes to believe that her visits help Sif!). But it's entirely another to arrive upon the doorstep and to get veritably bowled over by the Valkyrie on her way out of the door. At first... Valkyrie -will- likely appreciate and agree with her reaction of having her hand already upon the grip of her sword as the door opens to allow the charging warrioress to nearly run into Brynn. However, it takes but a moment for Brynn to nod and gesture, her armor floating out of her bag and afixing itself to her body. Back and Breast, bracers, armored sleeve, small shield, greaves... However, she does have a bit more acclimation to the modern world. She leaves the bag on Sif's doorstep and follows in Valkyrie footsteps even as her armor is donned psionically. "Allow me." she says simply.. just before Brynn and Brun are both lifted into the air, levitated and projected quickly. "Direct me, and we shall arrive without causing undue problems for the mortals." Then... the Eternal raises a single brow and remarks, "How is it that a skeleton without lungs... can have a voice?" Of course, her sword is in hand and her eyes glow with golden power while she surveys the situation. "It should be noted too, that I -can- heal the injured if need be." she voices to the Valkyrie, "But until then... consider me your shieldmaiden. I shall follow your lead." She hefts her shield as she says that, indicating that it is her plan to guard her companion's flank. Elsa frowns slightly as not only do her bullets fail to decapitate the skeletal monstrosity, but it has the intelligence to raise its shield to deflect the rest of the remainder of the rounds in the chamber. "Cheeky sod. Where do you think you're going? Too spicy for ya?!?" As the gun runs dry, Elsa slaps it down on the desk, spying Annabelles hand groping for the box. She swats at the archaeologists hand. "Leave it to the experts, darling." Elsa leaps over the desk, reaching underneath to grab the double barrelled shotgun stowed there. She yanks open a drawer on the opposite side of the desk and rapidly jams a couple of shells into the breech. It's then of course, that the Valkyrie arrives, leaving the new wooden door hanging precariously by one solitary hinge. "Brunnhilde! This is not my bloody fault!" Elsa yells. The arrival of the second Asgardian warrior is heralded by the door coming off its hinges completely. "Stone me, word gets round here quick doesn't it. Morning!" she offers to the second female warrior. Pleasantries exchanged, Elsa hefts the shotgun and lets the already ragged skeleton have both barrels, the solid slugs knocking two holes in the creatures shield and pulping most of its upper body, the rounds smacking into the woodwork harmlessly between the two Valkyries. "Sorry!" Elsa yells. Three more skeletal warriors appear in the middle of the shop, ancient but surprisingly solid looking spears in their bony grasp. Elsa flings the empty shotgun at one of them, before she starts to rummage in the desks left hand drawers. "Be darlings and keep them occupied, will you please?" As she's lifted from the sidewalk and propelled through the air, a startled Brunnhilde has to admit that Brynn has a variety of unexpected and useful skills, beyond being a skilled swordswoman. If they're going to make a habit of this then that's something they'll need to discuss. Later. Brunnhilde steps inside the shop so that she and her companion aren't trying to fight within the confines of the doorway, still blocking the skeletal warrior's path to the street outside. "I know not." She replies conversationally to Brynn, completely unfazed by what they're facing, and continues, "Mayhap if I lop off its head we shall find out?" Brynn's later words deserve more than the quick nod of gratitude that Brunnhilde sends her way, but by then Elsa is shouting at her. "Indeed? Was not 'Slayer of Unpleasant Things one of your titles?" Brunnhilde calls back, even as the shotgun blast perforates the undead creature. "This thing qualifies!" She points out tartly, raising Dragonfang and swinging the blade in an arc intended to separate their enemy's head from its neck. She's clearly expecting that to be the end of things, and being confronted with three more is a cause for surprise - though not really alarm. At Elsa's peremptory tone, Brunnhilde quirks a brow at Elsa, then looks across at Brynn. "Mortals." She says with a shrug, as if that explains everything, then wades into the skeletons. True to her word, Brynn steps in at Brunnhilde's side. God, the similarity in names alone is enough to make things weird. It's a good thing that Brynn is not using a glamor to alter her hair to look blonde, because if she did, she'd look like Brunnhilde's twin at this point. They move alike, almost eerily so. (Much like the whole.. Patroclese moving and fighting like Achilles thing) But she steps in on her friend's flank and insures that her shield will be between any attacks from the left side at least. "Brunnhilde, we face the unliving... and your comment is.. mortals?" she asks in a bit of confusion. "Oh, and... hold a moment." she says as her golden glowing eyes flare, beams of heat that could ignite a fire on stone or brick... aimed at the head of one skeleton. At the slap of her wrist in attempting to get the box, the figure hunkered behind the counter idly casts her gaze upwards towards the shot gun, magnum wielding shop proprietor. "Experts!?" The tone is incredulous at best, as after all, Annabelle considers /herself/ an expert. Thank you very much. Her hand balls into a slight fist, though any attempt at rolling of her eyes is halted when the two warriors make their presence known. Over the counter, a pair of glasses connected to a mousy brown head and blue eyes peak upwards, take in everything that is going on - and proceeds to simply hunker back down again. .."Wow.." The word is hushed and soft and really escaping her breath in a rush of air. As three more figures disappear and reappear, Annabelle's sweeping her fingers outwards (disregarding Elsa's comments), to collect the last two figures into her palm, and slamming them tightly into the box, snapping it closed afterwards. Elsa shoots Brunnhilde an exasperated look over the top of their skeletal foes. "I'm working on it, you cheeky Asgardian bint! You can't always solve this kind of ridiculousness by hitting it with a sodding sword." That being said, Dragonfang makes short work of the already injured skeleton. As Brunnhilde charges into the fray, her skeletal opponents fight with surprising skill and focus, jabbing at her with their spears. However, Brynns fiery gaze engulfs the skull of one of her undead foes, causing it to drop its spear and grasp at its head in an all too human gesture, before falling to the ground, unmoving. Elsa grabs something from the drawer, before staring agog at Brynns power. "Blimey. Look, I appreciate the help, but please don't look at anything valuable!" Elsa gives Annabelle a withering look as she scoops up the figurines and puts them in the box. "I know how this looks, but I know what I'm bloody doing." As the archaeologist snaps the box shut, Elsa snatches it from her grasp, unfurling the spool of silver wire she found in the drawer and wrapping it round the box, wincing as sparks dance off the precious metal as she does so. "That'll stop any other blighters leaping out. That just leaves those two comedians to deal with." The monster hunter looks over at the two Asgardians. "Come on then, show us mortals how its done," she yells with a grin. As the first skeleton comes apart and clatters to the floor in a rain of bones, Brunnhilde glances over at Elsa with a grin that's both smug and evil. "In this case it seems worth a try!" She observes pointedly. It's against the Valkyrie's instincts to pull up short before engaging the three skeletons, but she gives Brynn the benefit of the doubt - and is glad that she does, as her near-double shows off another of her lethal talents. "Magnificent!" She tosses back over her shoulder, accompanied by a fierce grin, and then she resumes her assault on one of the two remaining skeletons, trusting Brynn to take the other. Swaying gracefully aside as the spear-point lunges toward her, Brunnhilde's left hand flashes out to grab the shaft of the weapon. "And Brynn?" Yes, she's going to talk AND fight, "I meant not our foes." Dragonfang comes down hard on the spear, splitting it apart. She cocks her head a little, at Elsa's good natured taunting, even as she drives her elbow back into the skeleton's permanently grinning teeth. "But on second thoughts." As the skeleton reels back, Brunnhilde sets herself, Dragonfang in a two-handed grip. "This one seems not so bad." Dragonfang comes down in a diagonal slice, bisecting the skeleton from shoulder to hip. She ends up facing Elsa, Dragonfang resting on her own shoulder at an almost jaunty angle (the tip dangerously close to the ceiling). With a bit of a smirk, she glances back to Brynn quickly. "Brynnhildr the Eternal." She looks back to Elsa. "Meet Elsa Bloodstone." She pauses for a beat. "Among other things, Drinker of Tea." She's not really trying to hide her amusement. "So, how came you by..." She begins, then really notices Annabelle for the first time. "And who is this?" And indeed, as Brunn begind moving in on the last two, Brynn moves right alongside. Once again, the movements are similar. However, with her armaments, her techniques change a bit. The Eternal spins and launches a lunging strike with her own unnamed, undecorative sword. The skeleton is actually fighting with skill and deflects the blow. This causes Brynnt o grin as she deftly brings her shield about in a pummeling blow that crushes the ribcage of the skeleton. So many people think of shields as nothing but -defensive-. Much to their regret when someone shows them that it is just as effective a weapon as any sword. That impact stuns the creature, and the sword is then used to slice through the spine before the skull is impaled upon the blade. With that done, the fight is over and Brynn turns to join her... sister in arms in approaching the mortals. The skull is still upon her blade, which she places on the counter. "Well met." she remarks as she begins removing the skull from the blade. "Are there any injuries that need dealing with?" she asks, her own accent a bit different than the Valkyrie's... hers sounds like a mix of German, Swedish, and Russian. Elsa slaps the wooden box on the table, still shooting a few errant sparks before it becomes inert. "Behave." She turns around, folding her arms across her chest, watching with a professional eye as the two Asgardians summarily deal with their remaining foes. "What kept you?" she asks irreverently as Brunnhilde stands before her. Elsa leans past the Valkyrie and offers a friendly wave to Brynn. "Yeah. You too. I think we're in one piece, thanks for asking." She returns her gaze to Brunnhilde, about to open her mouth to respond, when Annabelle stops cowering and makes a break for the door, scattering fragments of bone left right and centre as she leaves the shop. "I'll be in touch!" Elsa yells after her. Elsa's attention returns to Valkyrie. "That was one Annabelle Riggs. Archaeologist. Nice lady, seems to have a nasty habit of ending up with bloody dangerous artefacts." She reaches behind her, grabbing the photographs of the trolls engaged in tomb robbing and holding them up in front of the two Asgardians. "Look familiar?" Brunnhilde looks dubiously at the box as Elsa administers chastisement to it, but she's effectively distracted by the mock-accusation that comes her way right after. "Had I known you were to meddle with things best left undisturbed, you can be assured I would have been earlier!" She replies, her tone aggrieved, but she's grinning all the same, and clearly doesn't mean the rebuke. As Elsa leans past her, Brunnhilde moves aside a little so that she's not obscuring Brynn, and catches a glance of the skull still decorating her sword. She snorts with amusement, looks to Brynn - and whatever she was going to say is forgotten as Annabelle hustles past. Looking between the other two, the Valkyrie shrugs. It's rapidly becoming her default reaction whenever Midgardians do something baffling around her. "She seems a flighty one?" She hazards, and gives a firm nod as the departed Annabelle is belatedly introduced, as if she's storing the name away. "A habit she should try to break, I think." She says, looking around at the piles of bones that litter the floor. She looks around sharply as the photos are brandished by Elsa, her brows coming together in concern. "That appears... unusually organised, for trolls." She says with some disquiet, exchanging a look with Brynn. "We should go. This bears further investigation." She half-turns, then looks back at Elsa. "I am glad you are uninjured, Elsa Bloodstone." She says seriously, then gets an amused look in her eyes again. "But if you find more such things as these? Seek me at the hall of Thor Odinson /before/ opening the box?" She's definitely smirking by the end, there. Finally extricating the skull from her blade... see it would've been simple, if she wanted to just shatter the bone thing. But she sets the skull down upon the counter, "Here is a keepsake, a reminder as it were. Perhaps the story of Pandroa should be recalled before you open more boxes?" she asks before sheathing her sword upon her back. As Annabelle dashes off, she raises a brow and shrugs, "Mortals tend to have such a reaction to violence in their proximity, it is understandable but.." and then the pictures of the trolls. "I agree. I have only met trolls such as those when they crossed over to Midgard over the centuries but... I have not seen them organized at all." And she nods to Brunnhilde. "Aye, we should discuss abilities that we compliment one another more effectively." Elsa's gaze narrows at Brunnhildes words, but her mouth quirks into something of a smile. "I wasn't meddling, I had meddling forced upon me. Thats *completely* different." She nods at the Valkyries assessment of Annabelle as she speeds past. "Uh huh." At Brunnhildes mild chastisement, reinforced by Brynns depositing of the skull on the desk, Elsa shrugs. "In fairness, I wasn't the one who opened the sodding thing, but you both make a good point." She listens to both warriors comments on the Trolls actions. Even a renowned monster hunter knows when to heed the advice of others on certain creatures. She looks pensive for a moment. "So we have a tribe of organised troll bastards, possibly in possession of more whacky undead norse warriors in a box. Or worse. Lovely." Elsa straightens up. "Look, I know you lot have been doing this a lot longer than I have, but I'm not too shabby in dealing with ye olde monsters either. I'll see what I can turn up as well. Maybe I can catch Miss Riggs before she leaves the state." Elsa looks mournfully at the damage inflicted on the shops interior. "I guess I've got some cleaning up to do. Thanks for the assistance, oh plucky warriors of Asgard. I'll try not to make a habit of this." With that, Elsa goes looking for a broom. And a hammer. And some nails. And some plaster... Category:Log